


What's My Line, Again?

by painted_lady12



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Anonymous Sex, Bisexual Male Character, Dick Pics, Gay Male Character, M/M, Male Homosexuality, Masturbation, Online Dating, Pictures, Public Masturbation, Revelations, Time Skips
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-27
Updated: 2017-10-27
Packaged: 2019-01-23 21:41:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12517176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/painted_lady12/pseuds/painted_lady12
Summary: Both Yuuri and Viktor arrive in Sochi one week before the Grand Prix Final.  Phichit insists that Yuuri needs a date with a hot guy.  Christophe can't get Viktor off this new dating app that only allows you to send pictures.  Antics ensue





	What's My Line, Again?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sereliah](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sereliah/gifts).



> Hello hello!
> 
> This was part of a challenge I had: if I got a beautiful picture of my boys from my fics, then I'll complete a prompt of your choice. The lovely @sereliahs on tumblr completed an absolutely PRECIOUS picture of my boys from Thin Line Between Us, so I'm answering with a short fic based off parameters she chose.
> 
> I kind of ran with it. I hope you guys like it<3
> 
> Timeline: this is set before the infamous Grand Prix where Yuuri came in last due to nerves. Though I know Phichit doesn't actually go to Sochi with Yuuri, I had him come for moral support to create a parallel between Chris/Viktor and Phichit/Yuuri.
> 
> As usual, I do not own Yuri!!! on Ice

 

  
  


Here's the lovely picture :)  Now here's the fic!

 

***

 

Yuuri Katsuki and Phichit Chulanot were very, very drunk.

 

The two of them arrived to Sochi a week early for the Grand Prix Final, Yuuri’s first in the Senior Division, and were sitting up in their shared hotel room, giggling and swaying and throwing pillows at each other when they got frustrated.

 

“Phichit, I am not going to go to the bars like this!  I’m already so drunk!”  Yuuri pounded his chest for emphasis, and whined, stroking the spot he had smacked.  “Ouch.”

 

Phichit laughed hysterically, pointing at his best friend, and fell back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling.

 

“Do you think I’ll ever have sex, Yuuri?”

 

“When you find someone who you feel comfortable with, sure.”

 

“What was your first time like?”

 

Yuuri thought about it for a short while.  “It was with a girl.  Her name was Lea.  We got hot chocolate afterwards.  We laughed through the awkward parts.  She was sweet, and we were both happy we did it, but we decided we didn’t want anything more.”

 

“Have you had sex with a dude yet?”

 

Blushing all the way down his chest, Yuuri glared at his friend.  “Being bisexual doesn’t mean that you just have sex with anyone willy-nilly.”

 

“That’s a no, then,” Phichit responded, drawing circles in the air with his hand.  “I have an idea!”

 

Sitting up, Yuuri looked stricken.  “What are you going to do, Phich?”

 

Grabbing Yuuri’s phone, Phichit started fiddling with it, making Yuuri crawl over the bed to him, reaching for it.  “Give it, Phichit!”

 

“Nope!  We’re making you a dating profile.”

 

Yuuri groaned.  “Do I get a say in this?”

 

“You do if you help me pick an app.”

 

They both glanced through the options.  There was one that was apparently very popular right now.  It was an app that used code names, and you’d communicate with the other person strictly  by sending photos.

 

“This seems like a phone sex app,” Yuuri said warily, and Phichit snickered, clicking “download”

 

“Phichit!  Stop!”  Yuuri started crawling over Phichit to get to his phone, but Phichit was persistent.

 

“Yuuri!  Stop!” he mimicked, continuing to click around on Yuuri’s phone.

 

Giving up, Yuuri huffed and sat down, crossing his arms.  “Fine.  Go ahead.”

 

Phichit spent a lot of time with Yuuri’s profile.  “Apparently they match you with people in your area based upon shared interests.  You can accept or reject them.  If you accept them, you guys can start sending photos with captions to each other.  If you reject them, then they are blocked and you’ll never see photos from them.  You only have to show what you want, and there is no identifying information.”

 

Slowly, Yuuri was coming around to the idea, blushing a little bit.  “Um, has anyone showed up yet?”

 

“Quite a few.  There’s icecoming69, there’s moonlightdick_12, there’s tomorrow_today…”

 

“Those sound fake,” Yuuri complained, peering over Phichit’s shoulder.

 

Then Yuuri got suspicious.  “What’s my username?”

 

“Sexyskater_123,” Phichit pointed at the name, and Yuuri smacked himself in the forehead with his palm.  

 

“I’m going to die.  This is the end.”

 

“Oh, look at this one!  Their username is iceking_25.  They like poodles, skating, some of the same songs…”

 

Yuuri looked over the profile.  There were no pictures or names, but the list of likes seemed to be compatible.

 

“He does seem to be similar…”

 

“Alright, let’s go then!” Phichit clicked _accept_ and Yuuri almost feinted.

  


***

  


Christophe Giacometti was watching Viktor Nikiforov click through his phone.

 

“Are you ever going to get off of that?”

 

Viktor locked his phone, getting back to the conversation.  They were sitting at the bar in their hotel, sipping margaritas together.  

 

“I’m sorry, it’s this new dating app,” Viktor sighed, taking a dramatic sip of the margarita, “I’m lonely, Chris.  I need to find a connection with someone.”

 

Christophe flicked his wrist in a sign of dismissal.  “You don’t need a connection.  You need meaningless sex.”

 

“I’d take that, too,” Viktor admitted, swirling his drink around in his glass, glum.

 

“If only my boyfriend liked sharing,” Christophe lamented, and Viktor winked, making them both laugh.

 

Viktor’s phone _ding_ ed to tell him that he had a new match.

 

His fingers fidgeted on the glass until Chris rolled his eyes.  “Look.  Whatever.  It’s not like I haven’t seen you in months or anything.”

 

“Thank you,” Viktor pulled out his phone and checked the match.

 

“Sexyskater_123?” he mused, cocking his head to the side.

 

“Sounds like a bot,” Christophe admitted.

 

Viktor touched his lips thoughtfully, then snapped his fingers.  “Only way to prove it is by talking to them, I guess!”

 

Quickly, Vikor snapped a picture of his margarita, and sent it in the app captioned _wish I could be drinking with someone else._

 

Chris elbowed him, hard, and continued to sip his own drink.

  


***

  


When the picture appeared on his screen, Phichit squealed like a thirteen-year-old girl.  “Look, he’s even classy.  He sent you a picture of his drink!”

 

“Drink sounds too similar to dick,” Yuuri pointed out, a little woozy from his sixth cup of their alcoholic concoction.

 

Phichit blushed a little.  “Um… do you want a picture of his dick?”

 

“No!” Yuuri yelped, gathering his knees to his chest, turning bright red.

 

“I can’t help with that, Yuuri.  That would be a more… private conversation,” Phichit handed the phone over.  “I’m going to bed.  Celestino wants me to practice tomorrow even though I’m not competing.  He thinks it will help motivated me or whatever.”

 

Phichit unceremoniously passed out after flopping over onto the covers.

 

Unsteady on his feet, Yuuri snapped a picture of the bottle they had been drinking from and answered with the caption _wish I was drinking with someone else too._

 

He sent it, fingers shaking, until a little notification told him that the person answered.

 

It was a picture of fingers through silver hair, and Yuuri almost dropped his phone.

 

It couldn’t be him, could it…?

 

The picture didn’t show his face.  Just the top of his head.  It was captioned _wish these were someone else’s hands._

  


***

  


“So if they respond with a dick pic or something, you’re going to have sex with them?”

 

Viktor shook his head, beaming and tipsy.  “It’s a test.  If they’re a bot, they’ll send something that isn’t on topic.  If they send back something similar to what I said, or escalate it further, they aren’t a bot.  If they say that I’m being too forward, then they’re a real person, and maybe we can actually talk.  I just need a picture of their face to know they’re legit.”

 

Chris blinked a few times, finished off his drink and called for the bartender.  “I think we need more liquor for this.”

 

***

  


Yuuri’s hands shook.  It was very likely, based off of the similar interests, that this other person was Viktor freaking Nikiforov.  Yuuri’s idol for years, Viktor Nikiforov.

 

Fingers shaking, he wondered what he was supposed to do now.  Viktor… or whoever… was clearly trying to escalate the situation further into the sexual category.  Yuuri blushed at what he thought to do next, then ended up walking into the hotel room bathroom, closing the door, and hiking up his shirt.

 

Though he didn’t like his body, he knew based off what other people said that his body was nice.    

 

Feeling a little adventurous from the alcohol, he gathered the front of his shirt up to his face and bit onto it, taking a picture of his mouth to his belly button, and captioned it _wish this was someone else’s mouth._

  


***

  


Viktor was blushing from more than just alcohol when he got the next message.

 

“That confirms that he’s real, right?” Viktor asked Chris, who just shrugged and took another long sip of his margarita.  “I don’t know, Vitya.  He seems real enough.”

 

Contemplating for a second, he mused, “Yeah, but anyone could snag a picture like that from the internet and send it.  Hold on…”

 

Viktor looked around the bar.  There was a little sign that showed the date on it, and that anyone under that age shouldn’t be purchasing alcohol.

 

Taking a quick snap of it, he sent the picture with the caption _show me the date so that I know you’re real._

  


***

  


Yuuri was very affronted as he stared at his phone.

 

He’d just done something he considers to be very bold for himself, and Viktor thought that he was a phony?  Bullshit.  Yuuri looked around the room frantically, until he found that the hotel room clock had the date on it, too.

 

He snapped a pic, with the caption _I’m as real as you are.  Can I see your face?_

  


***

  


“He wants a picture of my face.”

 

Chris waggled his eyebrows.  “It’s the only way you’ll know what he looks like, right?  A good old fashioned _I’ll show you mine, you show me yours_ type scenario?”

 

Viktor contemplated for a moment, then posed for a selfie, winking.

 

He sent it with the caption _I want to see your face, too_

  


***

  


Visibly paling, Yuuri looked at himself in the hotel room mirror.

 

He had been on a plane all day.  His hair was a mess, and his face was red from alcohol.  

 

On top of that, it had been confirmed.  Viktor Nikiforov was the one he was talking to.  Viktor, whose silver hair fell perfectly in his face, bright blue eyes winking at Yuuri from behind the screen.

 

Yuuri was drunk, panicking, and decided to do something idiotic and stupid to make sure that Viktor wouldn’t judge his face.

  


***

  


Christophe had spit his drink across the bar, coughing and spluttering as Viktor’s face fell in surprise.  

 

“Oh my,” Viktor whispered, gazing at his screen.  There was a new picture on his phone.  It was a tan hand clutching a soft cock, stroking it to hardness.

 

Swallowing, Viktor looked at the caption.

 

_Wish these were your hands._

 

“Who is this man?!”  Viktor demanded, “They have to be fake.  They won’t show me their face!”

 

Chris had finally regained the ability to breathe, managing to choke out,  “He did show you his head, though!”

 

Viktor threw Chris a withering look, tapping his foot.

 

Viktor had already shown his face.  If he answered with a revealing picture, he risks the other person having dirt on him.

 

However, Viktor was feeling ballsy that night.

 

“I’ll be back,” Viktor said calmly, and Chris started coughing in laughter.  

 

“Take your time!”

 

Viktor made his way to the restroom, clicking the door locked behind him.

 

Carefully, he removed his pants to his knees, and gulped, touching himself.  He tried to find a good angle; everything felt awkward with him taking a picture with his non dominant hand, but he knew how he liked to be pleased.

 

Snapping a picture after stroking himself to half-hardness, he captioned it _think you could get off from just my pictures?_

  


_***_

  


The answer was that yes, Yuuri could.  He propped the picture up on the bathroom counter, taking himself in hand and stroking himself, imagining that perfect pale hand on him instead, what it would feel like to taste that perfect red-tipped cock…

 

Yuuri took one more picture, of himself from the mouth down again, biting his lip as he rapidly stroked himself apart.  The caption was a hastily typed out, _can you?_

 

Yuuri finished embarrassingly quickly, became suddenly very sleepy, and pulled his pants up and waddled over to the bed, exhausted.

  


***

  


Viktor Nikiforov knew many things.

 

He didn’t know that this person was real, he couldn’t.  They couldn’t possibly be real if they refused to show their face.

 

However, he did know that the second he saw the picture of the tanned man touching himself, lips swollen and bitten from trying to contain his own moans, Viktor couldn’t stroke himself fast enough.

 

People were knocking hurriedly on the door, desperately needing to use the stall and he simply _didn’t care_ because the person in the pictures was gorgeous and even if they weren’t of the person who was sending them, even if they were of someone else entirely, they were sure as hell getting the job done...

 

When the door opened, Viktor walked out, brushing his hair back, attempting to look like he hadn’t just gotten himself off in the bathroom to the picture of a stranger.

 

Chris held his drink up as Viktor passed, snickering.  “Cheers, friend.”

  


***

 

_One Week Later_

 

Viktor was clicking angrily at his phone.  Since the night that he had sent those pictures with Sexyskater_123, they hadn’t responded yet, and he was both miserable and mortified.  Some bot or catfisher or something had delicate pictures of him, and he had been played.

 

“What are you doing, old man?” Yuri sneered, peering over his shoulder.

 

Viktor locked his phone quickly, and Yuri snorted.  “What, don’t want me to see pictures of your boyfriend?”

 

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Viktor snapped, sipping his champagne.  “Behave.  We’re the gold medalists.  We’re supposed to be setting an example.”

 

As he said “example”, the music changed suddenly, and a Japanese man hopped into the middle of the dance floor, shirt coming untucked from his pants.

 

“Let’s get this party started!”

 

Viktor quickly put his phone in his pocket, gathering around the dance floor, where the sixth place skater was drunkenly dancing.

 

Yuri was tapping his foot, and the Japanese man caught sight of it, lighting up like the sun.  “You have to dance with me!”

 

“Come on, Yuri,” Viktor teased, “Dance off!”

 

The other Yuuri looked at Viktor in awe, but quickly grabbed Yuri’s hands and hauled him out, setting up to dance.

 

“You’ll never see me coming,” Yuuri insisted, and Yuri laughed.  

 

“We’ll see about that, old man.”

 

The two of them began, jumping around and spinning and dancing.  Viktor was quickly captured by the way Yuuri moved, like a ballerina in grace but a complete goofball in facial expressions and jeers.

 

Yuuri won against Yuri, much to Yuri’s chagrin.  The teen was walking off the dance floor and muttering to himself, before Yuuri locked eyes with Viktor.

 

It was like a magnetic pull, bringing him in; Yuuri didn’t even have to grab him before Viktor was being brought close.

 

Yuuri’s hands were warm. His chocolate brown eyes were wide with wonder and excitement, and his cheeks were flushed with drink.  There was something that was fizzling between the two of them, something that Viktor couldn’t name but wanted to chase like a dream after waking.

 

When they started their tango, Viktor was so enraptured by the other man, that he completely forgot about the stupid one from the stupid dating app.

  


***

  


_One Year Later_

 

“Yuuri, darling, hurry up!  We’re going to be late!”

 

Viktor was straightening his bow-tie for the banquet, a lovely deep red color, when he realized that he couldn’t find his phone.  

 

His silver medalist skater, Yuuri, was still trying to get his hair just right, flustered and refusing the help of his fiance.

 

Quickly, Viktor grabbed Yuuri’s phone and started scrolling through it, bored, when he saw a familiar app.

 

Fingers shaking a bit, he opened it.  There was only one accepted match, and it was iceking_25.  

 

He opened the app, possessed, and saw the many pictures they had taken from the year before.

 

Viktor dropped the phone, squeaking, “Yuuri!!!”

 

Yuuri peeked his head out, half of his hair gelled back. "What?"

 

Viktor's face was bright red. "You catfished me!!"

 

Yuuri, confused, came over to the phone, and literally fell into the bed, mortified.

 

"Yuuri, you were so dirty! I can't believe I got off in the bar bathroom to my little Katsudon."

 

"I just didn't... wait got off where?" Yuuri peeked up, staring at Viktor in disbelief.

 

"How did I not recognize your cock when I saw it for the first time?! I'd thought about this picture so much..."

 

Spluttering, Yuuri squeaked, "Viktor!!!"

 

**Author's Note:**

> Additional ending added on 11/4/2017 from a comment:)


End file.
